Cruel Inaction

 

Some twenty five years ago a student travelling by a private bus in Kottayam fell off the bus suffering fatal injuries.  People were very sad reading the tragic news. As usual the news papers were full of discussions, allegations, counter arguments etc. After a week or so, my son, then a small school boy ran to me with that day’s news paper in his hand. He was very happy and told me that such accidents will not be repeated as the government has made it compulsory for buses to have doors that can be closed and opened. I was not any enthused as I was sure that things will be as usual after a month or so. But I was really surprised to see buses fitted with doors within the time allotted to them by the government. So finally the government is acting with an iron hand, I thought. Things went well for a month or so. Suddenly the bus-operators invented a new method to overcome the ‘brutality’ of the government. They all heeded to the government’s instruction by fitting doors.  The government had not asked them to keep the door closed while the bus was moving. They kept the door always open by tying it to the body of the bus, and as usual the government did not see this for long until, I think, the court intervened.

I thought of this when the food inspectors all over the state have suddenly sprung into action after some fatal food poisoning incidents. They pulled the shutters down on innumerable restaurants all over the state. They suddenly pulled out hundreds of kilograms of decayed chicken from the freezers. They, in their new found enthusiasm, found that the food served in many restaurants were not fit for consumption.  Kudos for the bravado of the duty bound food inspectors. But where were they when rotten food was pushed down the throat of hapless unsuspecting  consumers. Aren’t they answerable for their inaction? The news papers carry stories of the pyrotechnics by the food inspectors. But this time my son did not run to me with the news paper, because now he not a boy but a man in his early thirties.

SPEECHLESS

 We are speechless when Dr Sashi Tharoor speaks. Yesterday I remained speechless in the Great Hall, CMS College, all the while Tharoor was speaking. He was delivering the inaugural lecture of the "Bishop M C Mani Foundation". I need not make any comment on a speech by Tharoor. Like anyone in the audience I too was delighted  listening to him and seeing him too from such close quarters. The well attended function went off very well. The 'tornado' left and the campus almost instantly settled down to its serene, soothing romantic self.

The principal Dr Varghese C Joshua had invited me to his bungalow for coffee after the programme. I was walking alone towards the bungalow when two ladies joined me. One was my friend Dr Reenu Jacob, the Vice-Principal and she introduced to me the other as Dr Jeena who is with the dept of communicative English. Reenu also told me that Jeena was the compere of the programme. I expressed my sincere appreciation for her sterling performance during the function. Things would have ended there. But my mind kept telling me that this lady is no ordinary, she has some real talent shrouded. Talents often speak through the eyes. I was very sure, but how can I ask her, who was a total stranger to me till a short while ago. At this moment of confusion Reenu, almost out of the blue, said, "Sir she is a highly talented person. She is a dancer, a researcher and she has produced documentaries etc. I felt happy for two reasons. First, my intuition was true. Then, I feel happy talking to talented people even as I myself am not one. See, listening to talented people, in fact, you are listening to ideas. During our talk she wanted my opinion of Tharoor's speech. For two reasons I was reluctant to answer her. One how can I comment on a Tharoor speech? The second was more inhibiting. Yet I told her the following. "I should not be mistaken. Most often I do not get anything new from the speeches I listen to. Yet I religiously attend speeches by people like Tharoor for a certain reason. I may have some opinion regarding a certain issue in my mind but I may not be able to conclude that my beliefs are right. When people like Tharoor too have the same opinion I can feel assured of the correctness of my thinking. This is no mean thing".

The three of us talked for half an hour. It was very interesting and a little enriching too.

Note: Listening to Tharoor I felt happy when I found that some of my ideas were in agreement with his. One was regarding the government's decision to allow foreign universities to have campuses in India. Another was regarding training students to acquire a certain skill with total disconnect with the rest of the world. I think I will write about these in another post.

Prof G M Ram

 

It is over a year since Ram Sir left this world for his heavenly abode. Many a time, I thought of posting an obituary on my blog, but could not. I felt like being held back by some inexplicable force. It took me several months before I could find a convincing reason for this strange state of mind. The simple reason was that my mind could not accept that Ram Sir was no more. Now after a year, getting over the shock and grief I felt no relevance for an obituary. But I changed my mind after I received a phone call from a girl I taught almost four decades ago. She told me that she had always tried to remind herself of a piece of advice I had given her when she started her teaching career. I was a little surprised as I was too young then to advise someone. Then she told me that this was the advice I received from Ram Sir when I started my career as a teacher. It was at this point that I decided to write this note.

1977 - That was the year I joined St John’s College, Agra as a PG student of Physics. Even before the first class I had felt demolished. All my pride as a Kerala youth simply vanished at the sight of the college, a huge imposing structure in red stone, indeed an architectural marvel.

Our first class. Ram Sir stepped into the room with his characteristic majesty. After a brief speech, he started the class. The topic was Mathematical Physics. I was surprised by a totally new style of teaching. I felt mesmerised by the ease with which he went from Mathematics to Physics and returned. That was the first time I realised the link between Physics and Mathematics. How the two were blended was a real eye opener.  And to top it all, he spoke beautiful and fluent English which was a treat by itself.

I left St John’s in 1979 after my PG and joined the CMS college in 1981 as a junior lecturer in Physics. I wrote a letter to Ram Sir informing him of this and never expected a reply from him. Those days it took a minimum of eight days to get a reply from Agra. To my surprise, I got a letter from Ram Sir on the eighth day. I still remember my hands shivering while opening the letter. He congratulated me, thanked God and closed the letter with the following sentence; “Any job done well is a reward in itself”.

In 1984, I was back in Agra for my M.Phil at the Agra University. By then Ram Sir had become the principal of St John’s college. I went to the principal’s bungalow to meet him. The description of the palatial building will need an exclusive essay which I don’t attempt here. I was received like a special guest and after talking for about an hour he told me that I should come back there in the evening for dinner with him and his family. With folded hands I told him “Sir, this invitation itself is a great honour for me. But I should be excused for not accepting this invitation. Sitting beside you in this palace for dinner, food will not go down my throat”. He laughed loudly and said “OK, OK”.

In 2005, I was again in Agra with my family. By then Ram Sir had retired from St John's college and was at the CNI Diocesan office most of the time. I went to the office and at the reception I was told that Sir was in a meeting with the Bishop. I waited for half an hour and gave a note to the receptionist and requested her to hand it over to Ram Sir. I just wrote “Rajan K. John,  1977-79 M.Sc Physics”. Sir came out in five minutes. Seeing him I ran up to him and said “Sir, I will not take more than two minutes. I have to catch the afternoon train to Kerala, that’s why I sent in that note”.  He sat beside me in the lounge and talked about many things, mostly related to the college. After some twenty minutes, I politely told him, “Sir, you were in a meeting with the Bishop and I have taken too much of your time”. With his characteristic smile, he said “The Bishop can wait”. I was shocked by the answer. Even today that answer remains an enigma. Perhaps there is a great message in that answer that the teacher is for the student. Anything or anyone comes only after that.

In 2017, I was again in Agra with my daughter Anna. Another one of my teachers, Prof. J. K. Sharma Sir  (A word about Sharma Sir. He passed MSc at the tender age of 19 and started teaching  at the  St John’s college. His students then were two or three years older than him.  Later he did his PhD from IIT Kanpur.) took us to Ram Sir’s house. He was very happy to see us. I touched his feet and sat beside him. Nearing ninety he was physically weak, but talked to us enthusiastically for over an hour. Sharma Sir encouraged him to talk about his student days at the Harvard University. He had a sharp memory and gave a vivid description of those times. He very clearly described places and incidents from around sixty five years back in time. Anna could not believe when he said that it took two months to reach the US from India by ship in those days. All of us had a very good time. After quite some unforgettable moments, we reluctantly rose to take leave of him. First Sharma Sir touched his feet. Then Anna touched his feet. Finally I moved forward but instead of touching his feet, in a flash, I said “Sir, I feel like hugging you”. He laughed aloud and said, “You do whatever you want to do”. I hugged him. The tall man he was, he hugged me too and I could hear him whisper “God bless you”. That was the last I heard from him. While leaving, I was sure that I would not meet him again. Yet when he left, it was the end of a world for me, a world in my thoughts so dominated by Ram Sir.